Let Me See You Cry
by TeyrianTimelord
Summary: Sif never let anyone see her cry, especially not Loki. That changes when he is brought home. One shot, relationship study. Post Avengers, Pre Dark World. K for violence.


_**Hi, everyone! Once again, experimenting with my new OTP. I decided that this time I wanted to do a different take on their relationship with more in depth emotions than my last story (which I will be continuing due to popular request). Yes, this missing scene is as cliché as it gets for Warfrost fics, but I wanted to explore their vulnerable sides. Enjoy! Please review with your thoughts!**_

Ever since they were children, Sif never let anyone see her cry, especially Loki. She considered it a sign of weakness and nothing more. There were times when she would sprint off to hide, cover her face with her hands, or hold her shield like a visor so no one could see the tears. Too much of her life had been devoted to proving unbreakable strength to let her guard down just because of pain or sadness or anger. But with Loki, it was as if catching her weeping was an assault on her dignity, and she had no problem letting him know as much. One time Sif had punched him in the jaw for trying to give her a hug after the death of her father, the whole time keeping her eyes screwed shut to hold back the waterfall of tears. He had always hoped that one day she would trust him enough to let him see her vulnerable side, but it never happened. Today was no exception.

The chaffing shackles on his wrists and the jaw-locking muzzle did not sting nearly as much as the hurt and disappointment on Sif's face when she first saw Thor leading him back from the Bifrost. A sheen the color of a storm cloud hazed over her dark eyes, hiding the familiar sparkle of passion that at one point twinkled just for him. Loki knew her well enough to know the rain was coming, but the moment their gazes met, she turned on her heels and bolted back into the palace. He released as much of a sigh as the half mask would allow. No doubt she heard all the rumors, all the stories, of what he had done on Midgard. Whether she heard the speculations or the facts did not matter; she had never been one to tolerate criminals and, at least among the citizens of Asgard, he fit the bill perfectly.

The walk from the Bifrost to the great hall of Asgard's capitol was tedious at best. Carefully shuffling around the dangling chains to avoid tripping took time, but he refused to be dragged or carried. Loki would return home with his pride in tact and without remorse. That image would be shattered if he needed to be aided like a sniveling mortal. Thor's face was nearly unreadable the whole way as he refused to even look at his adopted brother. _Typical…. _Loki sneered to himself. He was too weak to admit that his "little brother" was not everything he had hoped him to be, and it was sickening. _At least Sif had the decency to be transparent. _

Sif… He was surprised to see the shieldmaiden again when they finally reached the throne room, standing at attention with the Warriors Three and other royal guards. Though her face was stern and collected, rings of red rimmed the whites of her eyes, accented by the faint glare that narrowed them slightly. He wanted to run to her, to take her in his arms and say how much he wanted finally see her cry for him, but his attention was quickly diverted to Odin. Unlike Sif, the king's face held no trace of sadness, only an infuriated annoyance. Even under the muzzle, Loki bit his lip as the Allfather ranted on about how "unacceptable" his behavior was, and how "monstrous" he had been to kill a only a handful of mortals, and so on and so forth. The old man sounded as if he was reprimanding a child who had slaughtered the family livestock too early in the season. He yearned to let out a witty retort to the aged fool to make the droning end. His gaze continued to flit back to Sif every few seconds, observing the stone-like visage she had painted on her face. Though hardly detectable, a piece of it seemed to flake away with every passing moment Odin described his "atrocities."

_It must be hard to hear, _he mused as she swiftly brushed a finger across her eyelids. _Even she did not realize what I am capable of. _

A booming increase in Odin's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"Therefore you shall be held in the temporary cells while we decide how you shall pay for your war crimes," he bellowed, rising from his throne. "My son, my warriors, remove him from my sight."

Loki felt his heart smack his ribs as Sif joined Thor and his cronies to take him to the palace dungeons. Though the prince and Volstagg had the holds on his chains, she showed no qualms against holding her sword to his back. A needless precaution, really. Loki was powerless without his magic or his voice. Though she walked behind him, he could sense the heat of her gaze drilling into his skull. Feeling the steel tip pricking his skin, he recalled several points in the past where she had nearly run him through. A few of them she had intention to kill while others he escaped with a sly smile, a clever word, or a quick kiss, all by her permission. He wished this was one of those times.

The temporary holding cells in Asgard's dungeons were nothing like the permanent prisons. The one Hogun shoved him into was made of damp stones and chilled iron bars. It was cramped and dank, lacking in windows, a light source, or even a cot to lie upon while awaiting judgment. Though a collar remained to restrain his magic, Loki was greatly relieved when Thor removed the muzzle and excess chains. He immediately flexed his jaw and inhaled deeply. It felt spectacular to move his mouth again.

"We will return for you when father has finished your trial," Thor stated bluntly.

"Oh however will I survive the anticipation?" Loki sneered sardonically, thrilled at the sound of his own voice.

"Maybe we should leave him gagged," Fandral muttered to Sif.

She did not even bat an eyelash to acknowledge his comment.

As the group turned to leave, Sif tapped Thor's shoulder and whispered something in his ear. He nodded in return before giving her arm a tight squeeze. Loki raised an eyebrow as Thor, Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral hurried off, clucking about food and drink, leaving the Lady Sif behind. He wondered what she might have said to him. Even before the catalyst at Jotunheim she had kept her relationship with Loki a secret. Tongues in Asgard were looser than they would prefer. She stood a few paces back from the bars of his cell, her back pulled up in a warrior's attention and her face revealing none of her intentions. As soon as her friends were out of earshot, he smiled.

"I-"

Before he could manage anything else her fist shot through the bars and collided with his cheekbone with a _crack! _The force of the blow nearly threw him to the floor, and most certainly caused at least a fracture. Instinctually brining his hand up to the searing pain to assess the damage, his fingers found a small chip in the bone that flamed at the slightest touch.

"I missed you too," he grumbled, feeling the skin begin to swell.

"How could you?!" she snarled. "We thought you were dead!"

"In my defense, so did I for a while."

Another burning pain enflamed his other cheek, this time from the slap of her open palm.

"Is this really necessary?"

All the emotions Sif had previously kept hidden flared up on her face. A smoldering fury seized the calm demeanor while what could only be sorrow shone through those enchanting brown eyes. Her chest rose and fell in quick flutters, exposing the gut-wrenching anxiety eating away at her from the inside out. She brought a quick hand up to her temple to press on the delicate pressure point. Loki sucked in a shallow breath. This was the most emotional, most vulnerable, she had ever been in front of him before.

"_You lied to me!" _she choked, voice dripping with pain.

Loki frowned a little.

"Sif, I can think of several things I have done to make you hate me, but lying is not one of them."

She exhaled sharply, clenching and unclenching her fists several times while collecting her thoughts. He took a step back in case she decided to try striking him again, though a part of him wanted to let her beat him to a bloody pulp if it would make her feel better. He did not lose any sleep over the choices he made on Earth, had no regrets at his attempted conquest, but all the frustration and hurt in Sif's twisted lips and screaming eyes sent a pang of guilt through his chest. The last thing he ever wanted was to cause her any pain.

"You seem to have forgotten all the promises you made before you went mad," she whispered, dropping her head.

That sent another wave of perplexity through Loki's mind.

"My lady, I cannot-"

Despite his precautions to avoid her fists, she lunged forward enough for her fingers to just barely reach the fabric of his tunic. It was all she needed to yank him forward and slam his whole body into the barrier between them, sending a jolt of pain through his broken cheek bone down to the tips of his toes. He could not contain the groan that formed in his throat at the sudden onslaught.

"You told me you loved me!" Sif screamed in his face.

She was so close that he could feel her heavy, hot, breath against his face.

"And then you go and have your brother exiled, try to start a war, convince everyone of your death, slaughter innocent Midgardians, and come back chained like a monster! You- you-"

She swiftly released her hands from his shirt to bring them against her face and turn her back. Though no sound came, her shoulders began to shake and her arms began to tremble. A form of panic crashed over him like a wave in a storm against the hull of a longboat. He extended his arms and pulled her into an embrace as much as the bars would allow. It was unsatisfying, but he could still feel the heat of her skin and smell the blood and flowers in her hair.

"Don't touch me!" came the muffled demand through her hands, but she made no attempt to break free.

"You're a fool, Sif," he murmured against her soft hair. "I never stopped loving you."

"You never loved me!"

This time it was his turn to lash out. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them to his side of the bars, exposing her tear streaked face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. He let go of one arm to grasp her jaw and examined the silver sheen over her skin and fear in her eyes.

"How dare you?!" he hissed. "I was going to make you queen when I finally had my throne! Not a single day went by in those two year that I did not think of you. Fate gave me a chance and I took it. Do not _dare _to presume that the pursuit of my birthright somehow destroyed my feelings for you!"

Sif froze, not moving a single inch toward or away. For once she did not have a snide remark or a jarring blow as retaliation. It was alien to have her totally helpless before him, immobilized by her own feelings and his harsh outburst.

Then she cried. Not the soft weeping of hidden tears, but full racking sobs that shook her whole body. In that moment, Loki wanted to take it all back. The stunt with Laufey, the alliance with the Chitauri, the spat with the Avengers, he wanted to undo it all. For years, he wished she would open up to him and cry on his shoulder, share her feelings, but he was totally unprepared for this display.

"Stop that!" he ordered harshly, only to despise his own voice.

"Please," he begged as a follow up.

She did not. True panic gripped him now. He ran his hand over her cheeks, desperately trying to wipe away the fresh moisture that would not cease. Words spouted out of his mouth without permission, new promises, apologies, threats, bargains, pleas, anything that might make her cascading tears stop. It was as if thousands of years worth of bottled up sorrows had reached their limit and now all proceeded to break down the dam she had spent centuries building. Each new stream wrenched at his heart until he was sure she would pull it right out of his chest through bone and flesh alike. Loki had known madness. Deep in the abyss, floating in nothing, his was consumed by the nothingness until he screamed silently and endlessly. When the Teseract loaned him its power it burned into his mind with an absorption that shattered what sanity he had left. Sif's breakdown returned him to that brink.

In a last frantic attempt, he took her hands in his own and dropped to his knees.

"I am so sorry," he groaned. "I'll do anything, please, just stop, just stop…"

He didn't know what reaction to expect, but she surprised him anyway. She very slowly, carefully, and meticulously sunk down to his level and turned her hands over so their fingers entwined perfectly. Though she did not cease completely, her sobs eased back into quiet sniffles, and she stared deep into his eyes without fear. For her own degraded state, Loki was keenly aware of how pitiful he must have looked, on his knees, madly begging a pathetic looking girl. She gingerly brushed a single finger across his face, over the swollen bruises. His heart began pounding like a battle drum when she brought it away shimmering. Sweat? Tears?

"I don't know what to do," she rasped exhaustedly, leaning her forehead against the bars.

"What you have always done," he managed to reply despite his dry mouth. "Be strong."

Though it was barely possible between the iron, Sif gently took his lips in hers. It wasn't passionate like the kisses they exchanged in the dark of her chambers, sweet like the ones he would steal in passing when no one was watching, or even angry like during a fight after she threw something at his head. No, this was different. It was an apology, a confession, a promise.

_He went to move forward, but in a single movement the edge of her sword was pressed against his throat._

_ "If you betray him, I'll kill you." _

_ Her threat was serious, her face stern, but the smallest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Yes, this was the Sif he fell for. The strong shieldmaiden who was not afraid to give back everything she got, even to him. _

_ "It's good to see you again too, Sif."_


End file.
